


The Line of Durin Know How To Party

by BilbosBooty



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Also Thranduil's Elk makes an apperance, Before Erebor Fell, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Drunk Dwarves, Gen, Party King Thranduil, Sortof, Young Thorin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-19
Updated: 2014-10-19
Packaged: 2018-02-21 20:28:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2481374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BilbosBooty/pseuds/BilbosBooty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the night before an important meeting between the Elves of Mirkwood and the Dwarves of Erebor, so naturally there's a royal party. Thranduil and Thror have a little too much to drink, so its left to Thorin and Legolas to sort out their mess.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Line of Durin Know How To Party

            It was the night before a very important meeting between the Elves of the Greenwood and the Dwarves of Erebor. So naturally, there was a massive party. The dwarves had put on an impressive spread; the self-proclaimed Party King could admit that much, as he sat at the royal table, with an excellent view of the hall.

The music was a bit drab though; rather too much waltz and not enough dubstep. But that couldn’t be helped, they were dwarves after all. He slid his hot-magenta shutter shades down his nose, making the diamantes twinkle, and looked over the dance floor; his son was trying to weave through dancing couples, carrying three glasses of wine.

Prince Thrain was happily chatting up some Dwarrow-Dams in the back corner; wasn’t he married? King Thror had perhaps had a little too much to drink, and was throwing some hella rad shapes in the centre of the dance floor, surrounded by a crowd of cheering dwarves.

 

            He gratefully accepted yet another glass of Dorwinian Wine from his son, Legolas, who had just returned to the table.

“ _Father, I wish you wouldn’t wear those shutter shades everywhere we go_.” Legolas said in a rapid flow of Sindarin. “ _Can you even see out of them properly?_ ”

He retook his seat on Thranduil’s right, next to a bored and slightly embarrassed Prince Thorin, who was just a little too young to get served at the bar. He slid the third wine glass in front of the young dwarf prince with a sly smile and a wink. Thorin accepted it with a small smile of his own.

“ _Don’t be silly son, they add to my image_.” Thranduil replied, readjusting the glow sticks that were woven into his crown in place of the usual woodland flowers.

Thorin glanced apprehensively at them as they spoke.

“So, Prince Thorin.” Thranduil began, addressing the young prince. “Why aren’t you out on the dance floor making a fool out of yourself like the rest of your family?” He asked, leaning around Legolas, as his son face-palmed audibly.

“My grandfather said that I am representing the House of Durin, so I should be mature at all times, and act as a pinnacle of our race.” Thorin explained, sceptically taking a sip of the wine Legolas had given him.

 Thranduil smiled understandingly and was about to reply when Thorin interrupted him, pointing across the ballroom to where Thror was breakdancing.

“What the **fuck** is that?” he asked angrily. “Seriously, how is that upholding the reputation of the House of Durin? Mahal, he’s such a hypocrite.” Thorin finished his outburst with an irritated sigh, and dropped his elbow back onto the table with a huff.

“I know how you feel.” Legolas muttered quietly, glancing at his father.

“Oh, don’t you start Leggy, it’s a fucking chore to just get you to stay off my throne when I’m not looking.” Thranduil said harshly, without even batting an eyelid. “Oh, and since when did I say it was okay for you to take off your shutter shades? You know they are a mandatory part of accompanying me on diplomatic missions.”

“Yes, sorry Ada.” Legolas grumbled, producing a pair of forest green shutter shades from his tunic and shoving them onto his face.

“I have known the decedents of Durin’s line for almost eight hundred years, believe me, this party hasn’t even gotten started yet.” Thranduil continued, turning back to Thorin. “You should let your hair down, have some fun. After all, I assume you’ll be king one day; then you’ll be throwing these balls, you’ve got to learn how to party.” Thranduil suddenly stopped speaking, which was strange for him, once he’d had a few drinks, and began looking at Thorin calculatingly. “And I know just the person to teach you.” He held his hand out toward his son. “Leggy, give me your spare shutter shades.”

Legolas reached into his tunic and pulled out a pair of royal blue shutter shades, with gold diamantes. Thranduil reached forward and adjusted the gold circlet that Thorin wore, setting it at a jaunty angle. He unfolded the shutter shades and carefully threaded them through the braids at Thorin’s temples.

“There, fabulous.” He whispered as Thorin squinted and tilted his head back.

“How do you actually see out of these things?” Thorin asked, now trying to look over the top of them.

“It’s a skill.” Legolas explained, gently patting his shoulder and guiding his hand back to his wine glass. “You’ll get there eventually.”

 

* * *

            Much later that evening Thorin stood, leaning nonchalantly against a pillar next to where the drinks were being served, trying to look as sober as possible. Legolas appeared by his side, sporting a mischievous grin and holding a rather large crate filled with wine bottles in his arms.

“How the hell are you even doing this?” Thorin asked incredulously, quickly stooping to pick up two small barrels of ale that Legolas has pilfered on his last visit to the bar.

“Your people have got human women working the bar.” Legolas began, still smiling like an idiot. “They’re easily distracted by my elven charms.” 

Thorin raised a sceptical eyebrow.

“Just laugh, smile, lean in a little closer than usual, and you can steal from right under their noses, literally! “  Legolas continued, skirting along the wall and back to the royal balcony.

“I’m still not convinced.”  Thorin grumbled, almost falling up the steps to the balcony.

 He regained his footing, and looked up to see Legolas staring across the ballroom, with a look of absolute horror etched into his face. Thorin followed his line of sight, and suddenly felt equally horrified.

 

            Thranduil and King Thror were currently engaged in a fast waltz, virtually throwing each other around the dance floor, as it appeared that both were attempting to lead.

Thranduil carried a single rose clamped between his teeth, and had a rather too firm grip on Thror’s side. As Thror was too short to actually reach Thranduil’s shoulder, he also had his hand on Thranduil’s waist. With their other hands they seemed to be having an impromptu arm wrestle while they kicked at each other’s shins, spinning randomly across the floor. Thranduil apparently won the arm-wrestle, as he released his iron grip on Thror’s side and span him around, before continuing with their strange dance.

 

            However, superior dwarven strength won the next battle, and Thror managed to wrestle Thranduil’s hand from his side long enough to lift him above his head and spin him around, before returning the Elvenking to the floor. Thranduil had threaded his rose into one of Thror’s braids during the lift, and had now renewed the fight for the lead.

 

            Thror kicked at Thranduil’s feet, leading them off in a different direction, and dug his fingers into where he assumed the elf’s right kidney would be. Apparently he was correct, as Thranduil grimaced in pain and removed his hand from Thror’s side for a fraction of a second, to try to alleviate the pressure.

Thror saw his chance and he took it, swinging Thranduil into a low drop. The Elf-king finally seemed to give up as he lost his footing and Thror became the only thing keeping him from falling flat on the floor. He hung onto Thror’s shoulders for dear life with one arm, and used his other hand to whistle shrilly across the hall.

“Oh no.” Legolas muttered hiding the crate of wine underneath the table as Thranduil’s elk came striding into the room, looking bewilderedly for its master. The Elvenking waved it over, and swung himself up onto its back, dragging Thror with him.

 

            Thranduil’s elk trotted over to a high stone arch, which opened into a corridor leading toward the royal quarters, scaring several guests on the way.

“Well, it seems like it’s time to force Ada to stop drinking and go to bed.” Legolas announced with a long suffering sigh. “I’m sorry about this, he always drinks too much.” He took a step forward as if to follow his father through the archway.

“I’ll help you find him.” Thorin offered. “After all, it’s easy to get lost in these halls.” 

“That’s very kind of you.” Legolas smiled, starting off in the direction his father had disappeared in.

“Not that way, it’ll take forever to catch up with them.” Thorin explained, walking around the table to the back wall. “We can use the royal passages, they’re much more direct.”

He swept the edge of a tapestry back from the wall, revealing a narrow archway.

The corridor beyond was lined here and there with lit torches, spreading a dim, flickering light across the smooth stone walls. He ushered Legolas through the opening, while hastily scanning the room to make sure no one was watching them, before ducking under the tapestry and letting it fall back into place.

 

            “Well, this royal passage isn’t very well disguised, is it?”  Legolas observed as they began walking. Thorin chuckled quietly.

“My dear elvish princeling, this is not the royal passage.” Thorin laughed, taking a sudden right turn that Legolas hadn’t even noticed approaching. “This is a servant’s corridor, leading from the kitchens to the royal balcony. It’s used to serve food during dinner parties.” He explained, stopping in front of a blank stretch of wall.

He placed his palm firmly in the centre and a silver rectangle began to glow out of the stone. The glowing shape cracked open and a door swung forward from the stone.

“ _This_ is the royal passage.” Thorin announced, gesturing to the unlit tunnel. “You might want to grab a torch or something; I’ve heard that elves don’t see so well in the dark.”

Legolas complied, grabbing a torch from one of the wall brackets, and stepping forward into the darkness. 


End file.
